


When It Comes To Us (it shouldn't work, but it does)

by Ode_to_ships



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Stiles thinks a lot, They love each other, fluffy fluff, just want them to be happy already, lydia does too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ode_to_ships/pseuds/Ode_to_ships
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want us to be us the only way we know how."</p>
<p>Or Stiles and Lydia saying I love you for the very first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It Comes To Us (it shouldn't work, but it does)

**Author's Note:**

> They have a quiet love and I will always believe that. I also am sorry if it's a little OOC. I don't have anyone to read over it before I post them. I hope you guys like it (:

He kind of loves her. 

What does that mean?

He doesn't know, wishes he did. 

His definition revolves around admiration, appreciation, banter. That’s love in his mind.

But he’s beginning to think it’s a little broader than that. He really hopes that it is. 

Here’s what he knows for sure; admiration, appreciation, banter.

Admiration; he admires her and her talents. He admires her brilliance both in academics and in the general sense that when he looks at her, he goes a little starry eyed. Does she shine like that for everyone? He admires that she’s fierce. He admires that she’s brave.

Appreciation; he appreciates her. He appreciates her and her talents, and all she's come to be to him as his best friend, or one of them anyway. He appreciates her beauty. He appreciates what she brings to their lives individually, what she brings to his.

Banter; they banter backwards, forwards, side to side, all night, all day. It’s become how he tells her he cares for her. Snarky comments, and rolled eyes have become soft “I love you’s” and heart eyes that convey, “are you okays?” Banter is their language, one that he doesn't have with anyone else. It’s his best kept secret. His love for her his worst. 

 

He’s starting to think that his love is more than these 3 attributes, and any sane person would agree. He isn't exactly sane though. Love has always been about survival. Everyone he loves works for their survival. He loves them as a way to survive. Not her.

Loving her is indulgent. It’s a bad habit. It’s a great habit. It’s not a habit, it’s default.

It makes him think that maybe he was just always supposed to love her. Not like he loves Scott. He has to be clear about that because loving Scott isn't indulgent. 

Loving Lydia feels like drowning and taking that first breath of air. It’s like waking up to the smell of pancakes and bacon on Sunday morning when there's nothing to do all day. It’s like sitting too close to the fire on a fall night, but not moving away because you’re warm and it’s comforting to know something can be that warm when the air is so cold. It’s like finding the cold spot in bed, or flipping the pillow over to feel the cold side. It’s like coming home after a time away and smelling the familiar smells of the house, comforting and clean. 

Loving Lydia feels like being punched in the stomach over and over. It’s like the falling feeling that jerks you awake in bed when you're right on the edge of sleep. It’s the kick of adrenaline when you know something is about to happen. 

It’s all of these things. It’s watching her walk down the hallway towards him right now, she's glowing and bright. Her smile is genuine, and she’s in heels and a skirt. He wants to laugh at himself because this girl makes him stupid. He adds that to the list of ways Lydia makes him feel. 

She smiles at him, he smiles back even though he’s relatively sure he’s just lost all ability to think. He can hear the chorus to All Of My Love by Led Zepplin playing in his head, and he’s starting to wonder when that started happening. 

He’d always thought he was in love with her since he was 8. Now he isn't sure. He’s sure that he saw her, and he wanted her. He wanted to know her, to see her, to have to her know him, to see him. She never did, so he never got his chance.

He’s starting to think that’s what changed. It’s like the sun, no one ever looks directly at it, unless they have sunglasses. Everyone covers their eyes to it, unable to handle the brilliance, the brightness, and ya know, blindness. She was the sun, and he was never looking at her directly. He saw her through tinted windows, and sunglasses, and he hid in shaded areas. 

She was the sun and now he was always looking at her directly. He was blinded by her. 

Loving Lydia was like looking directly at the sun. You go blind for a bit after you inevitably have to look away. He’s pretty sure she’s his private sun. Scott looks fine. 

He’s pretty sure he’s been squinting at her for the past 2 minutes. 

What he's trying to get out is that all his feelings are true and genuine, and he has a list now because he knows Lydia. He knows her favorite of everything. He knows what side of the bed she claims is her favorite. He knows which one is actually her favorite. He knows that she has a library bill so high it’s insane. She has a habit of renting books, and forgetting to return them, despite the genius status. He knows how she takes her coffee. He knows how she only drools when she lays on her right side. He knows that she taps her pencil against her left shoulder when she’s really deep in thought. He knows she’s a firm believer in the 9 & 3 rule when driving, but actually places her hands at 8 & 4\. 

This could go on for awhile. He knows Lydia and all her quirks, and that’s why he gets stupid around her. 

Stupid has replaced spastic. She doesn't make him nervous anymore. You can't see someone drool and be nervous around them. But seeing her always kinda knocks him out. 

He’s never wanted to know someone like this. He wants her to invade his life. He wants her drool on his pillow, which okay sounds gross, but he’s in love alright? He wants her to take up his side of the bed, which is her favorite. 

He didn't know it was possible to love someone like he loves her. 

He didn't know he deserved to love someone like her. Even if she never loves him back, he’ll have gotten more than he deserves. 

 

Suddenly his phone goes off.

From: Lydia Martin  
You busy tonight?

To: Lydia Martin  
I might be

From: Lydia Martin  
Other than sitting in front of your computer and or playing video games with Scott

To: Lydia Martin  
I think we’ve earned some video game time

From: Lydia Martin  
Well how about Lydia time?

To: Lydia Martin  
I suppose I can work you into the night

From: Lydia Martin  
My hero

To: Lydia Martin  
I’ll see you tonight. 6 okay?

From: Lydia Martin  
Perfect

He feels like he just got kicked in the stomach.

 

XXXXX

She’s never really believed in love. 

She kinda loves him, and she doesn't know when that happened.

There isn't a moment she can pin down.

It’s frustrating. 

It’s a whole composition of moments that replay in her head when she’s laying in bed. 

When it first started, she reviewed them analytically because she refused to acknowledge what was actually happening. Now she drifts in them.

She knows it started with gentle words, and understanding. There was a fierce desire to protect her that took her a long time to see, even after he had screamed it in her face. 

Here’s what she knows for sure; Admiration, security, banter.

Admiration; she admires his loyalty to Scott, to the pack, to her. She admires his smarts, how he can keep up with her. She admires that he challenges her. She wants to be better because of him. Not smarter, but better. She admires that he has a ‘take no shit’ attitude. She admires that he’ll do anything to protect those he loves. 

Security; she feels so safe with him. He makes her feel like she can be comfortable in her own skin. He makes her feel like she can cry if she has to. He makes her feel like a human when she can’t remember that she is. 

Banter; he tests her all the time. They argue over ice cream flavors. She loves it. Pursed lips and heavy sighs have become soft forehead kisses, and whispered “I adore you’s”. Their banter is their language that conveys more than they let on, which is what she loves most. It isn't cheesy, gooey, over the top declarations. It’s quiet and fierce.

Loving him is so new to her. It’s frustration and happiness. It’s like running to reach a destination but never being able to get there. It’s like being out of breath all the time. It’s like treading water too long, but fighting to stay above the surface anyway. It’s like getting punched in the stomach over and over and over again. 

Loving him is like laying down in freshly cleaned sheets after a shower. It’s like the smell right after the rain, when everything smells new and earthly. It’s like a really cold drink of water on the hottest day. It’s like being wrapped up in blankets with coffee on the porch on a cool morning in fall. It’s like a hot bath after a long day when your muscles are sore, and as soon as you're in the water you can feel the tension ebb away. It’s like finding the perfect outfit to make you feel like you can do anything. 

This list could go on for a very long time, which is absolute insanity to her. 

She didn't think it was possible to love someone like she loves Stiles. She really never thought she would ever get a chance to experience it, and was never sure she wanted to. 

She didn't believe in the fairytale of it all. The princess in her had gone to sleep a long time ago, and hadn't woken up since. It was all scientific wasn't it? 

Maybe not.

She wants to see Stiles tonight, and she tells him as much when she shoots him a text even though he’s standing just down the hall. He’s got that look on his face that he sometimes get when he looks at her. Like she's too bright and looking at her hurts. 

She finds that she loses her bravery with him sometimes, but only in the best way. 

He wants to see her too, and suddenly she gets hit by the idea that maybe she should tell him how she feels. He’s made it more than clear in the past how he feels about her, and even if it has changed, he still deserves to know that she loved him in this life.

She feels like she just got kicked in the stomach. 

 

XXXXX

 

He’s nervous as all hell. His hands are doing the shaking thing they started doing around the time an evil fox spirit took up residence inside him. This is a different kind of terrified though. 

He isn't terrified because Lydia is coming over, she’s done that at least 15 times in the past two weeks, and he didn't keep track of how many times she was over during winter break after they had defeated The Beast. 

He’s terrified because he’s relatively sure he’s going to tell her that he loves her. He's thought about this a million different times, and come up with a million different ways to go about it. None of them seemed right, so he's hoping he can wing it in a way that she will appreciate. 

5:58 and nausea has taken over. He really needs to get it together because throwing up in the middle of saying “I love you” is not going to inspire her to reciprocate his feelings. He wants her to reciprocate them more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wonders, not for the first time today, when he became so desperate for her?  
He had changed so much. He was angry, violent, sarcastic, and broken. But she made him feel like maybe he could learn what happy was again. He could learn compassion and kindness again. He was always going to be sarcastic. Maybe she couldn't fix him, but she could help place the pieces in the right order so he could glue himself back together. 

5:59 and she's in his driveway.

 

XXXXX

She wants to turn around. 

She's not sure she's ever wanted to run away as much as she does right now. 

She’s brave in a lot of things, but this makes her feel scared. Scared and small. She has to tell him, but she doesn't think she can get out of the car. 

Stiles will be ecstatic, if she can ever work up the courage to get out of the car and walk up to his door. 

When did a boy ever make her this nervous? Never. Not once. She knows why this is different.

This is real and true. This is being in love. This is “not being able to breathe until you're with him” kind of love. Allison would be proud. This is trust, honesty, protection, adoration, happiness, anger, and desire all wrapped up in one boy. That one boy is making her sweat.

She’s a totally different person than she used to be, and she’s beyond grateful that she is. And it isn't that he made her that way, it’s that he took the time to show her that he saw what she was, who she could be. He showed her that part, and let her do the rest. 

It’s 5:59 and she's sitting in his driveway.

XXXXX

Lydia has been sitting in her car for 10 minutes now, and Stiles is trying to figure out why. He’s gone through every possible option starting with her favorite song came on the radio all the way to she's here to tell him she wants to just be friends because she knows that he loves her and she just doesn't know how to break it to him. 

None of these have come into play because she’s still sitting in her car. 

He gives it 2 more minutes and then he's walking out the front door and up to her window. His feet moved all of their own volition because he’s still shaking and unsure, but he needs to know if she's okay. 

He taps on the window, and she looks up. 

“Lydia? Are you okay?”

She nods. 

“Do you want to come inside?”

She shakes her head no, stops, then starts nodding.

“Okay, do you want me to get in the car with you?”

She nods again. He goes around to the passenger side, and climbs into the car. 

They sit in silence for about 30 seconds before Stiles starts talking again. 

“So my Bio homework has been royally kicking my ass, which is stupid because I’m usually pretty good with science. But something about RNA and DNA and mitochondria is really throwing me off.” He’s babbling because he doesn't know what else to do. 

“Stiles.” Her tone is soft, but there's a slight edge to it. He stops talking. “I came over here because I really need to talk to you. So I need you to be quiet for me for a minute because I really need to get this out.”

He nods, and then sighs because fuck, this is it. 

“I’m a firm believer in science, you know that. Chemical reactions are the reason for everything we feel, everything we do. They're the reason for our make up. But lately I’ve been starting to think about how people can come into your life and completely change everything that chemically makes you who you are. And it just frustrates me. Because I know we grow and we change, and it’s based on our experiences and how how brain interprets them to create who we are. But I’m frustrated because I don't understand how one person can so drastically alter everything we thought ourselves to be.” She takes a deep breath, and stays quiet long enough that Stiles has to break the silence.

“Okay. So what does this have to do with me Lydia?”

“You altered me Stiles. And I could give you the science of it all, but somehow that doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel true. You know?”

He nods because his tongue has stopped working, and Jesus fucking Christ he needs to calm down because she probably isn't going where he prays she's going with this.

“There was a part of me that went dormant a long time ago, a part that I wasn't sure would ever wake up again. And… Oh god okay this is entirely too scientific of an explanation.”

He’s not even breathing, hasn't been for the past 2 minutes. He should probably breathe. 

"Stiles, I love you. Not in a way that science can explain because I don't think that what I feel for you can be categorized under any kind of scientific or mathematical explanation. I just love you. I’m in love with you. Plain and simple.”

And suddenly he’s breathing. He registers what she said, and he finds that a calm is in the place of what he thought would be ecstasy. Not that he isn't ecstatic, but he's realizing that his love for Lydia, their love for each other, isn’t over stated. It isn't full of grandeur. It’s not loud and boisterous. 

It’s quiet. It’s sweet. It’s fierce. It’s strong. It’s small moments, and sweet gestures. 

She's quiet but she’s looking directly at him, never one to back down first. And he’s so fucking glad she never lost herself in all the chaos that had consumed them. 

“Uh.. Well this is weird because I was going to say that I love you. You knew that though.”

“You love me?” She sounds surprised, which surprises him.

“Always have, Lydia.”

“Even when…?” She trails off, but he knows what she’s asking.

“Even then.”

She nods and smiles to herself.

“Where does this put us?” He asks.

“I want to be with you. I want us to be us the only way we know how. The only difference is, I’m not sharing, and I get to wear your shirts, and actively take your side of the bed.”

“Okay one, I knew you liked plaid and I will forever remember this moment the next time you make fun of my shirts. And two, you’re more than welcome to my side of the bed.”

They don't kiss. They get out of the car, and walk into his house. He helps her with her jacket, and he holds her hand all the way up to his room. 

They watch movies for a few hours, and when it's time for her to go home, that’s when he kisses her.  
It’s not a heated kiss, though it’s only a few stops from sex city if they let it get that far. They don't. 

“I want us to be us the only way we know how.” And to them that means slow and sweet and quiet. And once they have that down, then they can take a vacation on Passion Island in Sex City.

She tastes like the popcorn they had been eating. Her lips are soft. His hands fit on her waist like they were supposed to be there the whole time. Her hands caress his hair in a way that make him weak. 

He walks her to her car, opens her door. She kisses him once more, climbs in, starts the car, and pulls away. He watches her till her head lights fade down the road. 

For the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel empty.

XXXXX

 

She’s driving away and she loves him. He loves her.

He loves her. 

Lydia has her hands placed firmly at 8 & 4, and she’s smiling so much her face hurts. 

Lydia’s never believed in love. Leave it to Stiles Stilinski to prove her wrong.

She thinks she might just be okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm impvlsivee on Tumblr. The title was taken from the title of the song When It Comes To Us by Francis.


End file.
